


The Spirit of Man

by dmdys



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmdys/pseuds/dmdys
Summary: Alex Manes never cared much for the theories that made the rounds; growing up in a military centric family meant that paranormal 'nonsense' was not welcome at the dinner table. If he's honest, he never put all that much thought into whether the stories were true or not, he had enough to deal with growing up. Other than a cowboys versus aliens paintball park that he frequented with his brothers, Alex didn't pay attention to whatever the latestRoswell Newsheadline was, or who had apparently been abducted that week (but had really just been black out drunk and woke up in a farmers paddock).
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	The Spirit of Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in which when Michael, Isobel and Max came out of their pods, the military imprisoned them. I don't normally like to post in chapters, but as I have a feeling this might get a bit long, I took the advice of Twitter and decided to post in chapters. I can't say how often I'll update, ~~but my focus is on this story at the moment, so I'm hoping it'll be every second day; please don't get mad if I take longer, though!~~ Edit: Okay, it's taking me a little longer to get this done, so please bear with me!
> 
> I'll update the tags as I go, but if you do think there are any warnings I need to post, please let me know!
> 
> Title credit to Jeff Wayne's The War of The Worlds.

> _There must be something worth living for  
>  There must be something worth trying for  
>  Even some things worth dying for  
>  And if one man can stand tall  
>  There must be hope for us all  
>  Somewhere, somewhere, in the spirit of man_
> 
> \- Beth, Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds

Before New Mexico was was a bustling haven of businesses, conspiracy theories and paranormal iconography, it already had it's own history, drenched in deceit and blood. 

Native Americans roamed the plains long before the white man stole the land. Rumours and stories circulated the immigrants from Europe, tales of Natives terrorising the settlers. Of course, these were mostly lies from those who settled on the land; in actual fact, the Natives were friendlier than history likes to tell us. The indigenous Natives would act as guides, messengers and protectors as the immigrants crossed the plains. In fact, the tribes of the region entered into treaties with one another, ending hostilities with one another in order to work together, along with the Europeans. Sadly, of course, the treaties didn't last very long. Upon hearing of fertile lands and vast mineral wealth in the west, they forced the Natives out; treaties with the Native folk were broken, forcing them into restriction, taking their homes from them. As with the rest of America, the Native population was quickly decimated.

Roswell, a little city in the south east of New Mexico, was founded as a trading post in the late 1800s, and would eventually become a metropolis, the seat of Chaves County. The town was quiet during the Lincoln County War, but found itself the home to many seeking refuge. Railroads were built and development grew, giving new purpose to the area. During the second world war a prisoner-of-war camp was built, which is now known as Iron Cross Park, taking it's name from the iron cross that Nazi prisoners had secretly built into the paved ground when they were made to work. 

The most renowned part of Roswell's history, however, is of course the alleged UFO crash of 1947. A flying saucer that apparently fell to Earth and was covered up by the United states Military. The government denies it, of course, and claimed it was merely a weather balloon, a part of Project Mogul, but most people prefer the conspiracy theories to the official story. The whole city became a tourist destination, little green men on every advertisement, stores with punny names and constant amateur documentary crews roaming the area, thinking they're going to uncover a top secret base.

Alex Manes never cared much for the theories that made the rounds; growing up in a military centric family meant that paranormal 'nonsense' was not welcome at the dinner table. If he's honest, he never put all that much thought into whether the stories were true or not, he had enough to deal with growing up. Other than a cowboys versus aliens paintball park that he frequented with his brothers, Alex didn't pay attention to whatever the latest _Roswell News_ headline was, or who had apparently been abducted that week (but had really just been black out drunk and woke up in a farmers paddock).

As soon as he was old enough, Alex was gone. He'd signed up with the Air Force the second he reached legal age and that was it, he was gone. Of course he still called his mother on holidays and birthdays, but he was quite happy to never have to set foot on Roswell sand again.

Until now.

Alex is sitting in the back seat of an unmarked government issued Jeep, staring out at the blank canvas of desert sand. He'd fought so hard to get out of being reassigned, but in the end his ten years of service didn't account for anything where his father is concerned. If Jesse Manes wants someone under his watch, Jesse Manes gets them. 

Alex sighs and takes a deep breath. He knew Flint and Gregory, his brothers, would be waiting with their father. He knew there would be comments about him 'running away' and how he'd broke his mother's heart (which Alex doesn't believe, anyway, since his mother has always said she was proud of him for getting out of the town).

“Where are we going?” Alex asks, eyes still on the world going by. The closest air base was quite some distance and Alex could swear they were nearer the university. For a split second he entertained the thought of Walker Air Force still operating under the guise of the university, but he quickly dismissed it at looked at the driver. 

He'd been picked up at the airport without a word, the driver only nodding when Alex pointed to the sign with his name the stranger was holding. They'd driven in silence, which Alex had been glad of to begin with, but now he was starting to feel a little concerned at his lack of knowing where his destination would be.

“Classified.”

Alex actually felt startled when the driver answered; he hadn't been expecting any kind of reply.

“You do know I'm your superior, right?” Alex asked, it isn't something he says often, and he hates pulling rank, but if Roswell is concerned he's suspicious of everyone.

The driver nods. “Apologies, sir, but I'm under strict instructions. All your questions will be answered when we arrive, sergeant.”

Alex nods, and turns back to the dusty wasteland outside. _Go figure._

* 

The Jeep pulls up outside a vacant building on the former Walker Air Base lot. Alex frowns as he climbs out of the Jeep gently, reaching back for his crutch. It's been a few months since he lost half his left leg, but he's a lot more used to it than he'd expected to be. He can walk decently without a crutch or cane, but he doesn't feel confident enough to leave it at home just yet.

“Uh, why are we at the university?” Alex asks, looking at the driver as he climbs out. The man says nothing, just straightens his cap and nods his head in the direction of the vacant building. Alex continues to frown, and glances behind to see a gaggle of students in the distance. What the hell did his father want him here for?

Alex turns back to see his escort walking towards an emergency exit. He stops beside and stands at attention. Alex resists the urge to roll his eyes, but makes his way towards him. As Alex reaches him, he spots an odd looking glass panel by the side of the door. He opens his mouth to ask what the hell is going on, but the private has already pressed his palm to the glass. The panels glows, and with a beep and a click, the emergency exit opens.

“Sir,” the private says, saluting Alex.

“Uh, you're not going in?”

He shakes his head. “I'm not cleared for further access, sir. You will be met by another officer upon arrival, sir.”

Alex really hates being called 'sir'; his father is 'sir', not him.

He nods and salutes the private, before making his way inside the building. As the door swings closed, Alex looks back through the small square window to see his companion climbing back into his jeep.

“Oh well,” Alex breathes, turning back. “Here we go.”

He's standing in what he assumes is an old stairwell from the airbase. Some of the buildings on the land had been converted by the university, but there was still plenty of vacant space. He'd hung out here a few times as a teenager, drinking and getting stoned with his friends. He'd abandoned the spot when the high school jocks decided they wanted to hang out there. Alex is thick skinned, but there's only so many homophobic slurs he can handle being thrown at him.

He reaches into his pocket to retrieve his phone and switches the torch function on. It was definitely an old stairwell. Oddly, however, Alex notices that there's almost no dust. He shines the light on the ground and is confused to find the floor looks relatively clean. He takes a few steps forward and looks down the gap between the stairs. It looks like there's only one flight down, and Alex assumes that he's supposed to make his way down.

 _Sure, dad._ he thinks as he slowly makes his way down to the lower level. It was just like Jesse Manes to try and challenge him like this. Everything he asked Alex to do was some kind of challenge. So, in true Manes fashion, Alex grit his teeth and fought on. The one trait he got from his father was stubbornness, and that came in handy now and then.

When he reached what he assumed was the bottom floor, Alex frowned. His cellphone was still the only light to guide him, but there was a small red light on the wall farthest from him, and upon further inspection he discovered a door. An elevator door.

Clueless and ever so slightly annoyed at having no information about what the hell was going on, he made his way forward and punched the button. The light turned orange, and Alex could hear the sounds of the elevator coming up the shaft. He takes another look around, just to make sure he hasn't missed anything. The elevator doesn't make a noise as the doors open, and Alex is startled by the clinical white light that beams out. With caution, Alex steps inside. There's no buttons for him to press, and he just stands there for a few seconds, looking around. 

“State your name and rank,” a robotic voice spoke, and Alex jumped, surprised. He couldn't see any speakers or microphones.

“State your name and rank,” the voice repeated.

“Uh, Alex Manes, sergeant in the United States Air Force.”

There was no sound for a few seconds, then, “Access granted. Welcome, sergeant Manes.”

The elevator began to move, slowly and steadily moving downwards.

_What the hell is going on here?_

The elevator doesn't stop until it reaches it's destination, and Alex guesses there are no other accessible floors between what he'd thought was the basement and this apparent secret basement.

Before the elevator doors open, Alex takes a second to smooth his uniform and straighten his cap. 

When the doors open, Alex can't help the gasp that escapes him. 

Right in front of him, barely ten meters away, is a large metallic aircraft. Well, what's left of it. It's not like any craft he's ever seen before, and he finds himself taking a large swallow as he steps out of the elevator. He realises he's on a platform, and he makes his way towards a railing on the edge. 

The remnant of the aircraft is bigger than he expected, reaching from the ground below him to the ceiling above, maybe 15 meters tall. It has a silvery glow to it. It looks...dead. That's the only word that he can find to fit the feeling the craft gives off. 

“Ah, Alex.” A voice calls, and he tears his eyes away. He hadn't noticed there were others in the room, down some stairs from the entry platform he found himself on. There were mechanical stations, computer set ups, blinking lights and machinery everywhere. It was an extremely professional set up.

Making his way to the stairs that led down to the main floor, Alex spotted a man in the same uniform he himself was wearing.

“Master sergeant,” Alex nods, and makes his way down the steps. He tries to focus on his footing, but he also can't tear his eyes away from the sounds and lights around him. When he reaches the bottom, he stares at his father.

“What is this?”

Master sergeant Jesse Manes smirks. “Welcome to Project Shepherd, son.”


End file.
